


DoppelBANGer

by Eilera



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, Considering the Circumstances, Embarrassing Office Shenanigans, Fluff, Humor, I'm so sorry Shiro, Kuron Does Too, M/M, Please Use The Internet Responsibly Folks, Porn Star Kuron, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shirocest, Shy Shiro, Slight Lance/Matt if You Squint Really Hard, So Bad They're Good Porn Titles, Sorry to disappoint, Supportive Kuro, There's Not Actually Much Sexy Times, amusing misunderstandings, office worker shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 12:23:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16346663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera
Summary: It was a testament to just how tired, just how exhausted Shiro's brain was that he saw what he thought he saw because there was no way this was happening.That...that wasShirofucking some dude hard, looking right into the camera as he plowed into him. He was wearing a button-up shirt similar to the one Shiro was wearing right now and his black tie was loose, like someone had been yanking on it.What?What was this?(In which Shiro is an overworked office worker and Kuro is a porn star that looks an awful lot like him.)





	DoppelBANGer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diamond_D_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diamond_D_Wolf/gifts).



> Yay, more Shiro/Kuron content! I might be one of the few writing it but I am NOT gonna stop. No way! I will be the change I wish to see in the world. :P
> 
> I hope you don't mind the dedication, Diamond_D_Wolf, you've just been an amazing supporter and I wanted you to know that. If you like Shiro and Kuron, check out their beautiful artwork on their [Tumblr](https://skydarko.tumblr.com/). Warning, NSFW content. :P
> 
> Special thanks to [DeathByStorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/works) for beta'ing as usual.

“As usual, Shiro, you’re an exemplary employee and I don’t have much to say to the contrary.”

Shiro kept his polite smile firmly in place while nervously screaming on the inside. Having a year-end review was always a nerve-wracking experience, even when you’re certain you’ve been performing well. It didn’t help that he was running on an hour of sleep and about fifty cups of coffee. He was seconds away from passing out or possibly just having a mental breakdown.

Shiro’s boss, Alfor, glanced down at his notes. “Given your history, I know there were some concerns about settling in here. I’d like you to know that we are happy to have you here and I just wanted to thank you for continuing to support and mentor the new employees. You’ve been a great asset to their growth.”

“Ah, the pleasure is all mine,” Shiro said, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants as unobtrusively as possible.

“Well, I’m happy to say that I’m marking you with ‘Consistently Exceeds Expectations’. I can really see you going somewhere within this company, Shiro. I think you’ll make a fine manager someday.” Alfor leaned back in his chair. “Would you be interested in taking on some extra duties in preparation for management? I think you will excel in that area.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence, sir. I’m happy to take on the challenge.”

More work? As if Shiro wasn’t already doing enough unpaid overtime as it was.

It was fine. He didn’t need a life anyway.

Keeping busy was...good.

It meant he didn’t have time to think about...things.

“Excellent. I’ll email you the details but don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you have any questions.”

Taking that as his cue to escape, Shiro stood up. “Thank you, sir.”

As he turned to the door, his boss called out to him.

“Oh, one more thing, Shiro.”

Shiro paused, glancing over at Alfor. The man had an odd smile on his face, eyes sparkling with a joke Shiro had completely missed.

“Look, I know it's a rough economy and we all have different ways of coping with...things, but please keep in mind that you represent the company at all times.” He paused, giving Shiro a knowing look. “On and off work.”

Shiro blinked, mind racing. His boss was looking at him like he should know what he was referring to but he honestly had no clue. Was he not dressed appropriately? He'd ironed his shirt but he had been half asleep. Maybe he missed a spot.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

*****************

Shiro slumped forward onto the breakroom table with a groan. There wasn’t enough coffee in the entire universe to save him now. If he drank any more he’d have a heart attack. He was just _so tired_ and he still had so much work to do. He really didn’t want to spend another weekend working instead of relaxing.

“Have a rough weekend?”

Shiro turned his head to the side so he could stare blearily up at Matt. The man was pouring himself some coffee. Shiro watched in horror as he dumped an obscene amount of sugar and cream into his cup.

“You’re going to die of heart failure at the age of thirty-three if you keep doing that.”

Matt shrugged, hooking his foot around the leg of one of the chairs and pulling it out. He sank into it, sipping his coffee with an over-the-top moan. “What a way to go, though.”

Shiro just sighed, letting his eyes slide closed.

“Seriously, you look like death.”

“Thanks,” Shiro grunted, popping open an eye to glare at Matt half-heartedly. “I worked most of the weekend and didn’t really get a chance to rest.”

Matt snorted, an odd look crossing his face. “I’ll bet you worked _hard_ this weekend.”

What was with that weird emphasis?

Shiro blinked at him in confusion as the rest of the breakroom broke out into snickers. Shiro had missed something, but he was too tired to try and figure it out. Deciding ignorance was the better part of valour, Shiro reached for his apple slices.

“Did you get your year-end review?” He asked as he pulled out a slice to munch on.

“Shiro, I thought we agreed never to bring that up.”

“Sorry.”

“We do not speaketh of thy review, for it is heresy of the highest degree.”

Shiro rolled his eyes.

Leave it to Matt to be a drama queen. He’d worry about why everyone was laughing at him later. For now, he just wanted to relax.

*****************

Getting odd looks and giggles from his co-workers was one thing. Getting accosted by complete strangers was something entirely different.

Shiro stared at the ticket machine in frustration.

He was fairly certain he had put enough money on his subway pass for the remainder of the month, but the ‘$0.00’ flashing at him said otherwise.

He really wanted to kick this stupid machine, but he restrained himself.

As he dug in his pocket for his wallet, someone gasped behind him.

“Oh. My. _God_. It’s you!”

Shiro glanced over his shoulder, wondering who was so excited to see someone in a dingy subway station. Shiro was fairly certain no celebrity would step within fifty-feet of this hellhole.

There was a young man standing right behind Shiro, staring up at him in awe.

Shiro looked around. Nope, just him.

“Ah, I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” Shiro asked, looking at the young man, perplexed.

The man laughed as if Shiro had told the world funniest joke. He briefly wondered if the guy was high. He wouldn’t be surprised considering this was public transit. The man pulled out his phone and, before Shiro could do anything, he leaned into him and snapped a selfie of the two of them.

“I can’t believe you are actually here! I loved you in Asspocalypse.”

Did he just say Ass...pocalypse? What...what was going on?

“I had no idea you lived in this area! My friends are going to be so jealous. Oh my god, I need to get an autograph from you!”

A normal person would tell the guy he had the wrong man.

A normal person would politely excuse themselves, maybe laugh at the misunderstanding.

A normal person would most certainly not sign a piece of paper with an illegible scribble because they were too shy to tell a stranger they weren’t who they thought they were.

Shiro was not a normal person.

As the guy practically skipped away, Shiro stared after him.

That was...strange.

He just wanted to go face-plant in his bed and forget this ever happened.

In the back of his mind, he was still reeling over ‘Asspocalypse’.   

What a weird name for a movie.

*****************

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, please don’t forget about the fire drill today. When the alarm goes off, please follow safety procedures as if it was actually happening.”

Shiro sighed as Alfor turned away. He really didn’t have the time to waste to stop working, crawl under his too small desk and cower like there was an actual earthquake. He knew the proper procedures, he’d done it a million times over his life. It was pretty much drilled into his skull at this point.

“I’m just gonna take a nap under there,” Matt said.

“Holt!”

“It was a joke!”

Shiro tuned out the lighthearted bickering, turning back to his fifty unread emails and twelve voicemails. There just wasn’t enough time in the day to get to everything. It was a never-ending cycle.

He was so into his work that, an hour later, he’d completely forgotten about the drill. When the ear-piercing alarm blasted through the room, Shiro nearly fell out of his chair.

“What’s that noise?” His client asked, sounding annoyed.

“I’m so sorry,” Shiro murmured, wincing as the sound reverberated in his skull. “It’s the...fire alarm.”

That was easier to explain than an earthquake alarm.

“Do you mind if I call you back?”

“Seriously? I have to wait?”

Shiro rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. Nice to know this lady would rather he risk burns and smoke inhalation than miss her call.

“I will call you as soon as I’m back.”

The woman huffed and hung up.

“Everyone, under your desks please!” Alfor’s voice rang through the room.

“Oh no, we’re gonna die!” Lance yelled dramatically, sinking to his knees. “Matt, hold me one last time!”

“We’ll be together in the afterlife!” Matt wailed, and were those fake tears streaming down his face?

Shiro shook his head, amused as he crawled under his desk. It was just barely big enough to fit his sturdy frame. Was it so much to ask that they accommodate the taller people?

Alfor stomped down their aisle. “Can you two stop fooling around and just follow the drill? If you don’t know what to do, just look at Shiro.”

Lance smirked. “Yeah, Shiro is clearly well versed in being on all fours.”

Shiro frowned as the other two snickered and Alfor tried to look disapproving. The sparkles in his eyes kind of ruined the effect.

“I know what I’m doing, Lance.”

Lance’s grin grew impossibly wider. “Yeah you do.”

What the hell was he on?

“Enough. Everybody, Lance and Matt have died in the earthquake due to their stupidity. Please laugh at their mangled corpses!”

As the rest of the office snickered, Shiro decided to file this incident under ‘Lance and Matt Are Stupid’ and call it a day.

*****************

Shiro rubbed his eyes, blinking slowly at the screen. He was so _tired_. But he still had so much work to do.

He took a moment to stretch, wincing at the cracks and pops of his bones as he leaned back in his chair. He ran his hand through his undoubtedly messy hair. He needed a shower badly. He’d work on this for another hour then take the subway home. Hopefully this time he wouldn’t be accosted by some random stranger asking for an autograph. He’d been asked no less than five times already. It was getting ridiculous.

Maybe he could squeeze in a shower before passing out until he had to get up at 5AM.

With a sigh, Shiro got back to it. He squinted at his screen as he typed out a search on Google, but his brain must have already been asleep in bed because he mistyped something and-

“ _Fuck me harder, daddy!_ ”

Shiro flinched at the loud moan erupting from his work computer.

Oh no.

Oh _no_.

Frantically, Shiro exited out of the offending pop-up only for three more to take its place. Each one was raunchier than the last, complete with flashing, neon words and over-the-top orgasm sounds.

“Stop!” Shiro yelped as ten more pop-ups of lewd sexual acts materialized into horrifying existence.

He’d seen more dicks in the last five seconds than he had in his entire life.

That was...kind of sad.

_Hi, my name is Takashi Shirogane and I accidentally opened porn on my work computer._

As another loud, orgasm wail caterwauled through the shitty speakers of his computer, Shiro desperately slammed his hand on the mute button. In his haste, he accidentally turned the volume _up_.

“ _I-it’s too big!_ ”

Face so red he could be a stop sign, Shiro locked his computer. Mercifully, the slapping sounds of skin on skin stopped and the image of some poor girl getting jizzed on by five guys was replaced by the boring blue background of his lock screen.

Groaning in embarrassment, Shiro let his head rest on his desk.

How was this his life?

“Dude, you’re better off watching at home. All the safe websites are blocked.”

Shiro felt his soul leave his body.

Time of death: 12:51AM

“Lance,” Shiro mumbled to the floor. “Why are you here?”

Lance laughed and slurped his frappuccino. “I forgot to bring my charger home and I’m not about to deal without one while on vacation.”

Shiro sighed, face in his hands. “Please just pretend you didn’t see any of this.”

“It’s fine, no judgement here. Who _hasn’t_ looked at porn at work?”

Shiro. Shiro hadn’t.

Until now.

“It was an accident.”

“Dude, why are you so embarrassed? You, of all people?”

Shiro didn’t know what the hell Lance was talking about and he honestly didn’t have the mental capacity to try and figure it out right now.

“Can you just-” Shiro cut himself off, gesturing at the screen helplessly. “Help me? I can’t get them to stop.”

Chuckling, Lance shuffled over, nodding at him to unlock it. In the time the computer screen had been locked, a dozen more pop-ups had surfaced, ready to scar Shiro for the rest of his life.

“ _Fuck me with your elephant dong!_ ”

Who came up with these lines, seriously?

As Lance reached for the keyboard, a pop-up so large it took up nearly the entire screen materialized in Shiro’s face.

It was a testament to just how tired, just how _exhausted_ his brain was that he saw what he thought he saw because there was _no way_ this was happening.  

That...that was _Shiro_ fucking some dude _hard_ , looking right into the camera as he plowed into him. He was wearing a button-up shirt similar to the one Shiro was wearing _right now_ and his black tie was loose, like someone had been yanking on it.

What?

What was this?

“Oh, that’s one of my favourite of yours. I wasn’t gonna say anything at work but, like, I’m a big fan.”

Shiro turned slowly, peering up at Lance. This wasn’t real. He’d fallen asleep at his desk and smashed his head on the floor, or, or maybe he somehow took some really intense drugs even though he’d never usually touch them with a fifty-foot pole. He felt like he was in the middle of the most fucked up dream he had ever had.

“W-what?”

Lance pointed to the screen.

“That’s not me,” Shiro stuttered.

Lance tilted his head, looking between Shiro and the man in the video. The man had moved now to fuck the other guy over a desk, The sound of skin slapping against skin, grunts and tiny mewls were a chorus to Shiro’s existential crisis.

“Looks like you.”

“It’s not!” Shiro yelled, horror enveloping him as a sinking realization sparked in his brain.

All those weird looks, those strange comments, shit, those autograph requests, all of it was suddenly making way more sense. This guy looked almost exactly like Shiro. They had the same black hair, chiseled jawlines and dark eyes. This man had a scar across his nose that Shiro didn’t and his hair seemed slightly longer than Shiro’s buzzed undercut, but other than that they could have been twins.

Everyone thought Shiro was a secret porn star.

This was hell. Shiro had died and now he was suffering in this torment because he forgot to return Tommy Hilgard’s eraser to him before he moved away in second grade.

“It’s not me,” Shiro said, as if saying it enough times would make people believe him. “It’s not me.” He added on for extra emphasis because he needed all the help he could get right now.

“You’re telling me,” Lance said slowly, completely forgetting his frappuccino in his shock. “That you are _not_ Kuro Kurasagi, smoking hot sex god, rising star of the gay porn community?”

“No?” Shiro squeaked.

Please let him wake up now.

*****************

Shiro stared at the name scrawled on a sticky note in Lance’s teenage girl handwriting. He’d even dotted the ‘i’ with a heart.

Kuro Kurasagi.

Who was this man that looked so much like Shiro?

Shiro settled into a free seat on the subway, wedged in a corner where no one could see what he was looking at and know his shame.

He typed the name into Google, curiosity getting the better of him. He was presented with a nice array of safe for work photos of the man. He looked startlingly similar to Shiro, so close there was no way they weren’t related. Shiro knew he was adopted, was it possible he’d had a twin?

Looking at the man’s birth date, he was surprised to see they were the same age at twenty-eight. Kuro’s birthday was later than Shiro’s, somewhere in October. Not twins then, but perhaps brothers? But they were born in the same year…

There was that saying that everyone had an unrelated twin somewhere, but was it really possible?

Mind reeling, Shiro looked through the photos.

For the most part, Kuro kept his hair similar to Shiro’s, short with a floof at the front. It looked like there was a time when he had long hair, black strands cascading over his shoulder like a silken nighttime sky.

He was...very attractive.

What the hell was wrong with him? How could he be attracted to a man that looked like him? Shiro had to be the world’s biggest narcissist to even be _looking_ at these photos. A part of him said he was only looking because he wanted to know if they were related, but a teeny tiny dark space in the back of his brain could admit that that was only partially true.

Against his better judgement, and with a quick guilty look around the train, Shiro clicked on Kuro’s website.

He certainly had a large array of videos to view considering he’d only come onto the porn scene a few months ago. Kuro seemed to have done a lot of the porno clichés: pizza delivery, plumber, even a Game of Thrones knockoff. Asspocalypse seemed to be some kind of zombie apocalypse movie where the only cure was Kuro’s magic zombie-curing dick.

Life was strange.

As the subway announced his stop, Shiro stepped off the train, shuffling through the throng of people towards the exit. He still had a bus to take before he would get home. Thankfully, this late at night he wasn’t going to be stuck waiting in line.

Of course, as was the usual with his life, he just missed it and had to watch in despair as the bus took off without him. Could this day get any worse? It would be another half an hour before the next one came. Shiro considered the costs of hailing a cab versus waiting in the cold.

If he was being honest with himself (and if he couldn’t be honest with himself then what was even the point), he kind of really wanted to get home and investigate this Kuro Kurasagi more. Swallowing down the embarrassment, Shiro waved over a taxi and slipped inside.

Shiro rattled off his address to the driver before leaning back in the seat, closing his eyes. It had been long day and he mentally decided he was just going to call in sick tomorrow. He wasn’t going to let himself work at all. Just relaxation. Maybe he would start that book he bought two months ago. Or was it three months ago? Shiro couldn’t-

“I’m sorry, but I just have to say it.”

Shiro blinked his eyes open to look at the driver. He had that familiar awestruck look in his eyes Shiro was growing familiar with as he looked Shiro over through the rear-view mirror.

No.

Please, no.

“I loved you in ‘Pacific Rimming’. I’ve watched it so many times I’ve lost count.”

Takashi Shirogane: poker face champion. By some miracle, he managed _not_ to cringe in disgust. Did this many people really watch shitty porn? Who had the time?

Apparently, everyone.

The driver wouldn’t take his eyes off him and Shiro kind of wished he’d look back at the road because that’s what you should be doing when driving.

“Of course, ‘Whore of the Rings’ was a close second.”

Shiro prayed for mercy to a God he didn’t quite believe in. He begged for them to save him from this nightmare taxi ride.

God must have been drunk or had a sick sense of humour because He intervened in the worst possible way.

There was a loud honk, a screech of tires.

The crunch of metal, broken glass slicing into his skin.

Searing pain, so intense, so all-consuming Shiro couldn’t even scream sliced through his right arm like burning fire.

Then, darkness.

*****************

Shiro stared at the ugly pamphlet in his lap.

‘Life After Amputation’ was scrawled across the top in ugly, bright letters. It was covered in cheesy clip art and pictures of amputees looking healthy and happy.

Shiro didn’t feel either of those right now.

In fact, it was taking everything in him not to cry at the moment.

Waking up to find your arm missing was a life experience Shiro could have done without. To make matters worse, Lance had shown him a newspaper article shortly after he woke up. The article proclaimed ‘Adult Film Star Seriously Injured in Car Crash’ in big bold letters next to a picture of an unconscious and bleeding Shiro.

It was tasteless, and Shiro hadn’t even had the opportunity to stop it.

“Shiro, they think you’re porn Shiro!” Lance had laughed.

Not really what he needed at the time.

Slumping back into the hospital pillows, Shiro took a deep breath.

He didn’t know what to do about...this. Would his work keep him around without an arm? How much did it cost to get a prosthetic? How well did prosthetics work these days? Would he still be able to do all of the things he enjoyed?

Was he going to be able to afford it all?

All of these questions were not helping him relax, something the nurses and doctors kept telling him to do. All of them with the same bland customer service smile and tired eyes. They didn’t really care, which was understandable. Shiro was a stranger, it would be hard to care about someone you didn’t know.

The problem was Shiro didn’t really have anyone left in his life that would care.

After the war, he’d stayed apart from people for so long, he hadn’t made as much of a connection as he should have. Sure, Lance and Matt were there for him. They visited him nearly every day, but Shiro felt like such a burden.

Fighting back a wave of fresh tears, Shiro looked back at the pamphlet. He really didn’t want to read it. If he could just-

“Um, hi,” A voice said softly from the doorway.

Shiro looked up into a pair of eyes so similar to his own that his breath caught in his throat.

Oh.

Oh no.  

*****************

“Kuro, why are we getting a ton of emails wishing you a speedy recovery?”

Kuro brushed his sweaty bangs out of his face with his hand, reaching for a cold water bottle with the other. “What?”

His boss, Coran, turned his phone towards him so he could see the emails filtering in at an alarming rate.

Kuro’s eyes scanned the emails as he put on a robe and accepted a warm, wet towel from one of the assistants. Wiping dried come off his chest, he raised an eyebrow.

“Why does everyone think I’ve been in a car accident?”

“I’ll look into this,” Coran said, frowning as he pulled his phone back. “Might be someone trying to put out false rumours about you.”

“Why would someone say I’ve been in an accident though?”

“Maybe they want to prevent you from getting more contracts,” Coran said, hand on his chin. “They’re jealous of your fame, my boy! I won’t let it happen!” He continued to mutter to himself as he walked away.

Kuro was going to leave it with him. He was tired after a long day of shooting. He really wanted to have a shower and clean off all this gunk. Sendak had really gone to town this time.

After a nice, long shower, Kuro made his way to the convenience store on his way back to his apartment. He wasn't up for making anything more complicated than a can of soup tonight.

The cashier did a double-take as Kuro brought up his goods.

“Oh,” she squeaked, blinking. “Aren't you that guy in the newspaper? The one that had that horrible accident?”

What?

Kuro stared at her, perplexed.

“Um,” she blushed as she gestured to the newspaper stand next to the counter. “It was all over the news.”

Kuro glanced over at the newspapers and nearly had a heart attack. That was Kuro getting pulled out of a crushed vehicle, bleeding and unconscious. The headline boldly proclaimed ‘Adult Film Star Seriously Injured in Car Crash’.

Kuro slowly looked back at the blonde cashier. “That...that's not me.”

She looked between him and the newspaper. “Looks like you.”

“It's not-" Kuro cut himself off.

All those emails, the well wishes, the phone calls. No wonder everyone thought it was him. This guy looked just like him!

This was really weird, what the hell was going on?

“I'll take a newspaper too.”

*****************

“Coran, this guy looks just like me.”

“Maybe they hired someone and gave him plastic surgery so that he would look like you and cause you trouble!”

“Hunk, you're going a bit-"

Coran gasped. “He's right you know. You've got to be careful these days, Kuro. Why, when I was a boy-”

Kuro sighed, head in his hands. These two would just keep going if he didn't stop them.

“I just want to know who he is.”

“And that's why you keep me around,” another voice cut in and Kuro looked up to see Pidge smirking above him. She edited all of their videos and was a certified tech genius and all-around terrifying woman.

“Did you find anything?”

Pidge glanced down at her tablet. “This is just another example of the news not doing their due diligence in researching a story properly. They thought he was you because the taxi driver thought he was you but he isn't. He's Takashi Shirogane, office worker, age 28. His birthday is February 29th and his social security number is-"

“Pidge!” Kuro groaned. “What did we say about digging in too deep?”

“That it'll get me arrested?”

Hunk and Coran nodded sagely.

“As if the authorities would ever catch me.”

She was too smart for her own good.

“Pidge, just stop-”

“He's an army veteran, honourable discharge after being a prisoner of war for a year.”

Kuro took a deep breath as memories of his own time in the army flashed across his eyes.

“Maybe you should meet him.”

Kuro blinked, pulling himself away from the past. “What? No! Pidge, I’m not going to meet a stranger.”

“Maybe you’re related. Wouldn’t you like to meet some long-lost family?”

“He could be a nutjob.”

“He’s not.”

“How would you know?”

“Because,” Pidge smirked, glasses glinting. “He works with my brother.”

*****************

Kuro scanned the hospital room numbers, looking for room 352.

He didn’t know why he was doing this. This guy was a stranger who just happened to look a lot like Kuro. And who also spent time in the army and came back with…

Memories best left forgotten.

He stopped outside of room 352, shuffling from side to side nervously. He couldn’t deny that he was curious about this man. By all accounts the accident was a nasty one and if nothing else maybe Kuro could provide some comfort.

His fingers brushed along the bracelet on his wrist, a reminder of a time when everything had seemed hopeless.

Yeah, he could help him.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

Takashi was sitting propped up on his bed. He was staring morosely at something in his lap, eyes downcast and shoulders drooping. His right arm was gone just above the elbow, bandages wrapped around what remained and across his bare chest and broad shoulders.

Oh boy, he shouldn’t be thinking like that.

“Um, hi,” he called out softly from the doorway, fingers gripping the doorframe tightly.

The man’s head shot up to look at Kuro in shock. The movement caused the items in his lap to slide onto the floor, revealing pamphlets for amputees. No wonder he didn’t want to read those.

When the man didn’t say anything and just continued to gape at him, Kuro took a step further into the room.

“I, um, thought I would come meet the guy scaring all my fans.”

Takashi’s left fist gripped his blankets tightly.

“How-how did you get in here?”

Kuro scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I told the nurse we were brothers.”

Takashi blinked at him before huffing out a surprised laugh. “I can see how that would work,” he said quietly, looking away.

Kuro hesitated once more before stepping forward again, bending down to pick up the ugly pamphlets. He shuffled them neatly and placed them on Takashi’s bedside table.

“I know it's hard to pick them up and read them, but the information and resources they provide are invaluable.”

Takashi didn't look at him, though his shoulders tensed imperceptibly.

“How would you know?”

Kuro sighed, resting his hand on the visitor’s chair. He gave Takashi a questioning look and after a brief hesitation he nodded for Kuro to sit down.

“I have Huntington's Disease.”

Takashi’s eyes widened in shock.

“I spent most of my life trying to pretend I didn't. Didn’t want to accept the inevitable. It came on me early and took me down slowly. Each year just a little worse than before. I dreamed of being in the army, and I got to live that for a time until the disease got worse and I couldn't aim a gun properly, couldn't walk without bumping into things.” Kuro paused, lifting his hand to touch the scar on his nose. “Honourable discharge. It's meant to lessen the blow of getting kicked out of the army, but it doesn't really help does it?”

Takashi shook his head slowly, relaxing a bit more into his bed. “No, it doesn't.”

“I thank my friends and my family every day for pushing me to do every treatment we could afford, every exercise that was supposed to hold off the effects. If I hadn't done that, I would have been too far gone by the time they discovered the right medication for it.”

Kuro leaned forward, resting his hand on Takashi’s bed.

“Read the pamphlets. I know it's hard. I know you don't want to acknowledge it, but it will _help_. I promise you.”

Takashi nodded slowly, blinking rapidly to try and prevent tears from falling. “Why are you here?”

Why was Kuro here? Why was he telling these things to a stranger? Just because he looked like him? Just because they might be related?

Kuro swallowed carefully. “I came here because I was curious about the man that looked like me. I’m staying here, if you’re okay with it, because it helps to know there’s someone else out there struggling with similar issues. Even if that someone is a stranger. Maybe even more so because of it.”

Takashi was silent for a moment, eyes dark and intense. All at once, he broke down, sinking forward like a puppet with its strings cut.

“It’s _gone_.”

Kuro leaned forward, resting his hand gently on Takashi’s shoulder, ignoring the empty gap where his arm was supposed to be. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what to _do_.”

Kuro silently offered himself to Takashi and the other man accepted, leaning into him as he sobbed. Kuro rubbed his hand soothingly down the man’s back, ignoring the tears soaking through his shirt. It felt nice to help someone else, just like he had been helped when he was struggling.

Because surely this man was family and that’s what family did for each other, right?

*****************

Takashi “just call me Shiro” Shirogane was an interesting man.

They shared quite a bit in common: both of them were foster children, broke their noses in fifth grade (Kuro fighting and Shiro getting taken out by an overzealous German Shepherd), went into the army straight out of high school and were honourably discharged due to disability.

Kuro was kicked out because of his degenerative disease and Shiro due to PTSD from his time as a prisoner of war. Kuro vaguely remembered hearing about Shiro’s squad being captured, how Shiro somehow escaped as the only survivor. It didn’t take a genius to know Shiro suffered from survivor’s guilt, but he was doing quite well all things considered.

Kuro visited him in the hospital nearly every day. Shiro was stuck there getting further treatment, physical therapy and to get him properly fitted for a new prosthetic. Prosthetics had come a long way and Kuro was confident Shiro was going to be able to get by just fine.

Shiro had the hospital staff wrapped around his finger, because they bent over backwards to help them get a DNA test done way faster than they would have done on their own.

The feeling of relief that washed through him when the results turned out negative was something Kuro decided not to look at too closely.

That way lead to heartache and he was perfectly happy with things the way they were.

Friends.

Shiro was turning out to be a very important one to him.

*****************

Kuro let his head hang down between his arms, groaning as Lotor gave him a particularly hard thrust. That asshole was being rough on purpose, still upset over their messy break-up a year ago. Unfortunately, the fans really liked their videos together so he was still stuck working with him every once in awhile.

“C’mon Kuro, put more energy into it! I’m not feeling it!” Coran yelled, gesturing for the camera to move up closer to Lotor’s hands gripping his ass. Lotor picked up the pace for the camera.

Kuro rolled his eyes at the floor.

It was difficult to get into it when he was so completely uninterested.

As they paused the filming briefly to adjust the lighting, there was a gentle tap at the door.

“Ah, Shiro, it’s nice to see you!”

W-what?

Kuro’s head snapped up, just in time to catch Pidge leading Shiro inside with a welcoming grin. Oh, great, Shiro was early...or was filming running late? Kuro had lost track of time with all the issues filming today. He was kind of embarrassed about Shiro seeing him like this, but at the same time heat coiled in his stomach, burning him from the inside out with _need_.

This was not the right time to have this kind of epiphany.

“Action!”

Lotor started up again, but this time Kuro was thinking about _Shiro_ doing this to him. It was Shiro’s hands gripping his hips tightly, Shiro pressing into him, brushing up against his prostate with each deep thrust-

“ _Ah_ …” Kuro moaned, pushing back to meet each slap of skin, back bowing as his mouth fell open.

Fuck.

He didn’t even notice Coran move the camera to his face, eyes unseeing as he imagined it was Shiro pushing his knees further apart so he could drive in deeper, harder, faster. Shiro’s hands pressing his chest into the bed, forcing his ass up like a cheap whore. This was too much, not enough, just right-

He came harder than he had in a long time, mattress muffling his scream. Lotor followed soon after, jacking himself off above Kuro’s panting body so he could mark him with it.

As Kuro came down from his post-orgasm high, Coran gave him a huge grin.

“That was phenomenal, my boy! Truly fantastic! I think that’s the best one yet!”

Kuro gave him a weak smile as guilt churned in his stomach. It had only been a few months since Shiro and Kuro had learned they were _not_ , in fact, related to each other. Even still, was it okay for him to be thinking about Shiro like that?

Was it okay for him to want more than friendship with the other man?

He gratefully accepted the warm towel from Hunk before donning his robe. Only then did he dare look at Shiro.

Shiro was definitely looking a bit red and was staring very interestedly at the ceiling. He looked so cute when he was embarrassed, it helped ease his own anxiety over the entire situation.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Shiro jumped slightly, eyes darting over to Kuro’s and looking relieved to see him covered up. “I, ah, I’m sorry. I came a bit earlier than usual.” His eyes widened in horror as he realized the double-entendre. “I-I meant I _arrived_ early. I should have waited outside or-”

“No, no it’s fine. I don’t mind,” Realizing how that might sound, Kuro backtracked. “Um, I mean-”

_Hi, I’m Kuro Kurasagi and I don’t mind my crush watching me get fucked by other men._

Shiro scratched the back of his neck. “It’s okay! I-I know what you meant.”

“I-”

“Kuro, great job today!” Coran cut in, slapping Kuro on the back with enough force he stumbled forward. Shiro reached out to him as if to catch him, but stopped himself with an abashed flush.

“Thanks, Coran,” Kuro said quietly, gesturing towards Shiro. “This is my friend, Shiro. He’s the one everyone thought was me.”

Coran peered at Shiro as he shook his hand, moustache twitching. “Would you ever consider getting into the porn business, Shiro? I bet our fans would love the two of you together.”

Kuro watched in amusement as Shiro’s face went fire engine red, right up to the tips of his ears.

“I-I-I-” Shiro stuttered, looking like his brain had just exploded.

Coran clapped him on the shoulder and held out his business card with a wink. “Think about it.”

Kuro knew Shiro didn’t have it in him to be rude, and, sure enough, he took the offered card, nervously shoving it in his pocket.

Coran looked between the two of them with a knowing grin before spinning on his heel and whisking away to yell at the clean-up crew.

Kuro turned back to Shiro. “If you don’t mind waiting a bit, I’m just going to take a quick shower and we can go.”

Shiro’s smile was so warm, it went all the way to Kuro’s toes. “I’ll be here.”

Shit. Kuro had it _bad_.

*****************

Kuro watched as Shiro straightened out the blanket with near obsessive neatness. He looked so excited to be sitting outside, having a late-night dinner underneath the stars.

Kuro was regretting his agreement. Not because he didn't want to, there was nothing he wanted more than this, but it was pure torture to only get to look and not _touch_.

These blossoming feelings for Shiro were something he was going to have to examine. The last thing he wanted to do was make Shiro uncomfortable. It was likely the other man would not appreciate Kuro’s growing affections. Who would want to date someone that looked just like them?

Kuro, apparently.

After they finished dinner and settled down on the blanket, Shiro happily pointed out various constellations, showing off his inner astrology nerd. He was so into it, explaining the various stories attached with each one. Kuro tried to listen, he really did, but he was distracted by the soft glow of the moon reflecting off Shiro’s dark eyes, the way he lit up as he described how a star was created.

He was gorgeous.

Kuro could feel the heat emanating off the other man. They were so close to each other, pressed together under another blanket for warmth. This was…

Not normal, right? Was it normal for two friends to cuddle under the stars? This really felt like a date but by this point they were so far into it it seemed silly to ask.

“Thanks for coming here with me,” Shiro said quietly, turning to look at Kuro with a warm smile.

Kuro’s heart skipped a beat at the look in his eyes, something else hiding just beneath the surface, too faint for Kuro to read it.

“Anytime,” Kuro managed to choke out, glad the darkness helped hide his growing blush.

“As frustrating as it was to deal with my co-worker’s misconception of me, I’m glad it lead me to you.”    

Kuro was pretty sure his heart was going to leap right out of his throat if Shiro kept talking like that. Was it possible to get a heart attack at his age? It certainly felt like it.

Shiro accepted Kuro for who he was. He didn’t judge him for his line of work, didn’t pressure him to leave it. He just embraced it, let Kuro be who he was and that-

That meant a lot to him.

He hoped he did the same for Shiro.

Kuro dared to glance at Shiro, only to see that his eyes were closed. He looked so peaceful. Work often kept him up late and rising early, it was so nice to see him get a chance to just relax and enjoy something he was interested in.

“I wouldn’t change any of this for the universe.”

He meant it.

More than he could possibly say.

*****************

Kuro hummed to himself as the elevator music droned on.

Being in Shiro’s fancy office building was...strange. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be there. That everyone somehow knew what he did for a living.

Actually, maybe they did considering all the teasing Shiro got before he found out about Kuro.

As the elevator signalled his arrival on the 18th floor, Kuro straightened his button-up shirt. The receptionist gave him an unimpressed look as she pointed him towards Shiro’s cubicle.

“Third one down on the right.”

Bitch.

Kuro moved down the rows of cubicles, each one looking exactly the same, like some hellish suburban neighbourhood where everyone had the same house with the same white picket fence. How people didn’t get lost in here was a mystery he would never unravel.

As he rounded the corner into the third row, he was greeted by a startled squawk. A man in the first cubicle flailed, squirting an entire tube of Go-Gurt on himself.

The nametag on his desk said ‘Lance McClain’. Ah, so this was the infamous Lance.

“Holy FUCK!” Lance shouted, staring down at his clothes in dismay. “I can't believe this. Now it looks like I jizzed on myself.”

“So, a normal, everyday look for you?” A man at the neighbouring desk smirked, and Kuro didn’t even need to look at his nametag to know this was ‘Matthew Holt’, older brother to Kuro’s Pidge.

Lance flipped Matt the bird before glancing at Kuro.

“Dude, I _told_ you to walk with heavier...foot...steps...you’re not Shiro.”

Kuro smiled. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh my God. Oh my _God_.” Lance gaped at him before whispering in awe, “It’s porn Shiro.”

Kuro snorted. Well, he wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t mind my friend here,” Matt said, giving Kuro a wink. “He’s the kind of guy that still eats Go-Gurt in his twenties.”  

“ _Matt_!”

Kuro decided to cut them off before they got any further. “I’m looking for Shiro, do you know where he is?”

“He’s supposed to be in a meeting until eleven thirty, then he has lunch.”

“It’s twelve.”

“Well, we’re not a very timely bunch here.” Matt looked oddly proud of that fact.

“Is it okay for me to wait for him here?”

Lance jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he wiped despondently at his shirt with a napkin. “He sits over there. Make yourself at home.”

Kuro wandered over to Shiro’s desk, situated behind Matt’s. As expected, the space was neat and orderly. Shiro’s jacket was hanging from a hook on the wall behind him. His desk was minimalistic, mostly covered in sticky notes and paperwork that pertained to his job. There were a few touches that were all Shiro, though.

A small chibi Hawkeye figure was on one of his monitor stands, rocking that purple monstrosity of a superhero outfit. There was a Domo-kun tape dispenser and pen holder neatly arranged beside his phone. A black cat-eared mug was still full of green tea, long since gone cold.

As Kuro sank into Shiro’s chair, he noticed a couple framed photographs. One was Shiro’s foster parents, both of whom passed away due to old age. Another was of what must have been his army buddies, all of them making funny faces at the camera. The last photo made Kuro’s heart skip a beat.

It was a selfie picture Shiro had taken with Kuro the day they had dinner under the stars. Shiro looked like he was trying to figure out how to get it to take a picture with the flash on and had accidentally done it without meaning to and Kuro had his straw in his mouth, looking surprised. Behind them, the stars shone brightly in the cloudless sky.   

It was-

Kuro swallowed carefully, heart pounding. Shiro had him there on his desk where he could see him every day. Did he look over to it for reassurance after a difficult call? Did he glance at it on his lunch break with a fond smile?

Kuro was shocked at how desperately he hoped so.

He hadn’t felt like this about someone ever before.

He-

“Kuro?”

Kuro looked up into those familiar eyes, so similar to his own and yet so very different. Shiro looked tired, suit jacket slung over his arm and his shirt sleeves rolled up. Despite his exhaustion, his face lit up when he spotted Kuro.

Kuro sucked in a breath of startled realization.

He loved this man.

More than anything.

Without thinking, Kuro stood up sharply. He gently cupped Shiro’s face with his right hand, watching as his eyes widened in surprise.

“I love you,” he murmured quietly, voice low and rough.

Shiro stilled, eyes flashing with so many different emotions, too fast for Kuro to decipher.

Kuro leaned in, inches away, hesitant, lips just barely touching Shiro’s, a promise, an offer, freely accepted or denied.

Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned the last inch forward, pressing his lips to Kuro’s and sending electric fire down his spine. Shiro dropped his suit jacket, moving his hand to grip Kuro’s bicep, the heat of it searing into his skin.

It was Shiro that opened his mouth first to deepen the kiss, tongue curling around Kuro’s with determination. Kuro titled his head for better access, eliciting a quiet moan from Shiro.

“Wow, Lance, we’re getting lunch _and_ a show.”

“I feel like I’ve earned this after the Go-Gurt incident.”

Shiro twitched, stepping back with a soft gasp. His eyes were dark with arousal, and Kuro really, _really_ wanted to get him alone. Right now. Please.

“I-I’m sorry, I-”

“Shiro, baby, don’t apologize,” Lance drawled, waving a hand at them. “Why don’t you two lovebirds get out of here? I’ll tell Alfor you had an emergency to take care of.”

“A _hard_ emergency.” Matt cut in.

“Needed to get some-”

“Vitamin D,” They finished together.

Shiro groaned. “Please, please shut up.”

Kuro watched in amusement as Shiro quickly shut off his computer, snatching up his jacket. Shiro was actually going to leave work early for Kuro?

“If Shiro’s breaking the rules for you, you know it’s true love,” Lance grinned.

It was true.

Shiro blushed profusely as he entwined the fingers of his prosthetic with Kuro’s. Kuro’s heart hammered in his chest like a schoolgirl looking at her first crush. They were just holding hands, no need to freak out Kurasagi!

As Shiro pulled him towards the elevator, Kuro’s heart soared.

Shiro liked him back.

As the elevator doors closed, Shiro squeezed his hand.

“I love you too.”

_The End_

Beautiful fanart by [skydarko](https://skydarko.tumblr.com/)!!

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact #1: I accidentally insinuated to my colleagues I was well versed in being on all fours during an earthquake drill. Shiro now gets to feel my shame. 
> 
> Fun Fact #2: I've accidentally opened a porno site at work before. I honestly thought I was going to have a heart attack. It wouldn't close either, had to kill the computer to make it go away. Thankfully, my computer was silent, so I escaped detection. Please surf the internet responsibly, folks. 
> 
> Not-So-Fun Fact: Huntington's Disease doesn't actually have a cure but I pretended it did for the sake of fic. I could not for the life of me find a degenerative disease that had a cure and that was kind of depressing.
> 
> Please feel free to talk to me about Voltron on [Tumblr](http://eilera-chan.tumblr.com/). :)


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